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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730203">Cerceaux</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura'>risokura</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 08:27:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Time falls through her hands like grains of sand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lightning/Oerba Yun Fang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cerceaux</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Snippets mainly from Lightning Returns. It’s supposed to be read as one collective piece, but really it’s just a buncha drabbles I wrote with word prompts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>-</strong> <em>C E R C E A U X</em></p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>“Nobody even imagines how well one can lie about the state of one’s own heart.”<br/>― Yukio Mishima, Thirst for Love</em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
</blockquote><hr/>
<p>
  <strong>(hollow)</strong>
</p>
<p>Time falls from Lightning’s hands, like grains of sand being swept away into the wind, weightless and yielding to a force stronger than its own. Nothing but flecks of dirt that slapped against her cheeks and beat upon the armored guard of the arm she used to shield her eyes from the sun. She kicks the sand from her boots and smears the sweat from her forehead against the leather of her hot gloves. The land is barren, almost as empty as the vessel Bhunivelze has turned her into.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(past)</strong>
</p>
<p>On the fourth day, she finds Fang.</p>
<p>Their reunion should have brought her joy, caused an aching in her chest that she hadn’t felt since losing her sister so many centuries ago. But, it didn’t. Instead, Lightning just stood there. Blank, devoid of any feeling or recollection of the raw and pure emotion that this woman had once roused from deep within her.</p>
<p>How fitting to find her greatest regret buried beneath the depths of the desert.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(coffee)</strong>
</p>
<p>Lightning has the ability to sleep, but she saw no need for it. Hope is an incessant chirp in her ear as the sun rises above the horizon. He likes to repeat himself for some reason, <em>you need to return, don’t forget. </em></p>
<p>She mentions to Fang that she will have to leave her just when dawn approaches and Fang’s reaction is a simple shrug, echoing nonchalance from very fiber of her being. They’ve been in the ruins for four hours now and Fang doesn’t look like she’s apt to lose steam just yet. The huntress hasn’t questioned Lightning’s new status as the <em>savior, </em>but she seems to understand that there’s some type of weirdo, god driven plan going on behind the scenes, the specifics of which she doesn’t care about.</p>
<p>When she returns from the Ark, Lightning walks into Fang’s room to find the bandit boss with her legs crossed over one another on the table in front of her and a hot steaming mug in her hands. Fang glances over her shoulder. There’s a second cup beside her on the table.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(doors)</strong>
</p>
<p>Lightning takes point through the series of winding corridors of the ruins and she’s reminded of the desperation she felt five hundred years ago on the streets of Palumpolum.</p>
<p>Fang’s laughter echoes in her ears as her memories of running through streets filled with horror stricken citizens flood her mind. Lightning remembers anger reflected within the depths of Hope’s eyes, the ignorant smirk on Snow’s face, and her own fear loaded into the trigger of her gun. Everything seemed so much simpler when Fang talked her through the nonsense that was going on in her head. Fang had a plan for everything … and even when she didn’t, she still seemed like she knew what she wanted and what to do.</p>
<p>And even now, on their final days on this planet, things were no different.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(dark) </strong>
</p>
<p>In the dead of the night, Fang takes her out to a lookout point that surveys the entirety of the desert. Lightning wants to remind herself that she doesn’t have <em>time </em>for sightseeing; she needs to keep on task and focus on what’s important. But, Fang says it <em>is</em> important. And it would be rude to deny such an <em>old friend </em>the company.</p>
<p>Meeting underneath a blanket of silence and darkness, it reminds Lightning of their time spent on Pulse. She feels inclined to blush when Fang mentions the distant look in her eyes and can only turn away from the older woman’s knowing gaze.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(strange) </strong>
</p>
<p>She wants to lash out, but Lightning can’t. The switch for her emotions is still flipped off and she can only <em>think</em> about what she should feel. Not actually do it.</p>
<p>Still, Fang pours a sweet smelling, red liquid into a glass and pushes it her way. The same flirtatious smirk is on her face as always. They’ve spent the day scavenging the entire desert for the god forsaken murals that would take them further into the ruins, and Fang thinks they’ve done enough work for the day—they should celebrate while they can.</p>
<p>Lightning is silent and can only think of the folly of it all. They don’t have <em>time </em>for celebrations when the world will end in less than six days. She still had the Wildlands to canvass for souls; she didn’t think her time spent with Fang would take her this long.</p>
<p>For all the strength that Bhunivelze has bestowed upon her, Lightning finds that alcohol still hits her in the same disorientating way as it did when she was still considered <em>human</em>. At long last, her muscle memory betrays her and she finds Fang’s teeth sinking into her neck while a hand presses strong and hard between her legs. Their first life together comes back to her in a flood of memories as Fang presses her down into the bed and rocks against her in sheer desperation. Nothing with them was ever slow when they were never guaranteed the possibility of tomorrow.</p>
<p>She closes her eyes and thinks she feels something.</p>
<p>Lightning’s convinced it’s only the alcohol.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(mind) </strong>
</p>
<p>The world ends in three days, but Lightning has found she’s stopped caring. Her mind is a jumble of what she can and cannot feel. What she does, and does not know. Reality plays tricks on her and she doesn’t know if she’s really meant to be this <em>savior </em>that Bhunivelze desires her to be. She looks to the heavens and searches the bright, night sky.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(roses)</strong>
</p>
<p>She lies in Fang’s bed, but she doesn’t sleep. Even with Fang beside her, something just feels off about everything. It’s just <em>not</em> like before.</p>
<p>Lightning closes her eyes and sifts through her memories of Oerba. She recalls the disbelief in Fang’s eyes as they gazed upon her home from Taejin’s Tower and realized it was no more. All the people, their family, friends. Everything… just gone.</p>
<p>She remembers lying between Vanille and Fang that night, each of them holding onto her as if she were going to fade and blow away like the crystal dust that covered their home. Fang had asked her if it was okay, Vanille needed more than one body to comfort her through the night.</p>
<p>Lightning was hesitant out of awkwardness; she wasn’t accustomed to something like this. But she had obliged, surmising to herself that it wasn’t something meant to be sexual. It was something she would have done for her sister so many years ago.</p>
<p>She rolls over on her side and buries her face into the back of Fang’s neck and inhales deeply. Another body to provide warmth through the cold, cold night.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(despair)</strong>
</p>
<p>Their plans go awry at the last minute and Fang is filled with regret when the clavis disappears right under her nose. Lightning reassures her not to worry, the world hasn’t ended yet. They still have time. Fang agrees and they meet underneath the smog of chaos and desperation in the holiest of places in Luxerion.</p>
<p><em>Not </em>yet, Lightning tells herself. They aren’t free just yet.</p>
<p>
  <strong>(earth)</strong>
</p>
<p>The world is reborn anew and Lightning assures herself that they will meet again. And when they do there will be no pressing matters of saving the world or avoiding imminent destruction from some ethereal force. There will be nothing but time. Time, hope and peace.</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Theirs will be a world devoid of Gods.</em> </strong>
</p>
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